CHAPTER X. SIR HUGH'S AMUSEMENTS.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2125, 20 February 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER X. SIR HUGH'S AMUSEMENTS.

There wore chill days after Christmaschill, bleak, wintry days, storm-laden, and dangerous on the rocky Northumbrian coast. The fisher people could not get out sometimes for weeks upon the treacherous sea, and want, endured with the dogired silence of their nature, began to spread among the population by the shore. In these hard times, as formerly, the Vicar's good wife was their friend and comforter, and soup twice a -day was supplied in the Vicarage kitchen to all who came for it. This of course greatly increased the household duties of Mr* Manners, but she found a willing and kindly assistant in Mi-s Williams, who cheerfully gave both her time and attention to the good work of helping her neighbours, and Sir Hugh declared she was always so busy whs never had any time to talk to him now. He had, however, met her more than once during the last few days, and had certainly done his best to attract her, hut somehow he felt that he had hardly succeeded. Sir Hugh began to feel rather piqued ut his failure, and to wonder what reason sho could have for her coldness. 1 She is in love with George, I believe,' he thought one night, as she left the morn, shortly after bis arrival at the Vicarage. 'Do you like her any better now ?' he said co Adelaide, who was standing beside him. INo ; why should I?' she answered abruptly. 'Do you ?' • I always liked her ;' replied Sir Hugh. 'Really, Hugh.' ' Well, Adelaide ?' • Why do you say such a thing ?' she said, half fiercely, half tenderly. ' Why do you say it to me ?' ' Why not my dear child ?' ' I hate to hear it,' answered Adelaide, quickly. 'Surely George is enough. Hugh, what was it you knew of her P Have you ever seen her before ? Tell me to-night.' And she laid her hand upon his arm. •What avails it to tell you?" he answered. 'It might avail much,' said Adelaide. ' It might even save George.' 'He won't marry her.' ' How do you know ? He's deeply in love with her. Ellen, my maid, saw him kissing her hand, and I know not what, on Christmas day, when he followed her out of the drawing-room — you remember?' Sir Hugh laughed. 'They flirt,' he said ; ' there's no harm in that.' 'George is not like you,' urged Adelaide. ' His ideas have fallen to his present station, I think. He is a man who would marry on a hundred a year, from any mistaken notion of honour.' ' High-minded being !' 'Hugh,' said Adelaide, indignantly, ' you make jest of everything.' ' Well, what is it you want to know ? What is it you have taken into your head ?' ' Who is this woman you all admire so much ?' asked Adelaide, her hot temper rising an she spoke. 'I am convinced you know something of her — tell xn« what it is P* ! ' I have seen her before,' said Sir Hugh, j 'Where? Tell me where?' asked Adelaide, eagerly. 'It was in society somewhere,' answered Sir Hugh, carelessly. ' A fellow who has knocked about the world in a marching regiment as I have done, sees dozens of women whom be never remenv bers more in his day".' ' But can you not try to recollect where it was !' said Adelaide, coldly. She did not believe her cousin was speaking the truth. • I can't just now. Will that satisfy you? How horribly curious you are, Adelaide.' ' I— l— do not believe you,' said Adelaide, turning away, with team of disappointment and anger rising in her dark eyes. • What a want of politeness, my dear.' ' Hugh, you will regret this when too late' said Adelaide the next moment; ' regret it when George makes a fool of himself— like papa— or worse.' < We'll wait until then, Adelaide. But what is that extraordinary din that I hear going on at the back of the house V ' It is the people coming; for the soup, I suppose. Mrs Manners will be getting a fever, or some otter dreadful disease, among her lambs, with allowing all these dirty creatures to come about.' ' Suppose, for fun, we go and look at tb.eanimalifotd.ing? 1

'Ge if you liko, bu f I have no taste for nuch disgusting sights.' ' Mind you aro in a better humour when I come back tntn,' said Sir Hugh, and, nodding his head to his cousin, he coolly left the room. He found the large, old-fashioned kitchMi, whioh was built out at the back of the Vicarage, half full of fisherwomen in their blue fUnnel costumes, who wove crowding eagerly round a table where Mrs Manners, Miss Williams, and two maid servants, were busily engaged dispensing the soup, which was standing in two huge iron pots smoking before them. Sir Hugh rather liked the study of human faces, and he stood back in the shade, and looked with some curiosity ut tho*e now before him. There were young women, old women, and middle-aged. Women of seventy, ' who went about the country with their heavy creels till they dropped, and pretty, famiflhed-looking girls, with complexions as delicate at my lady's. But there was the flame expression on nearly every face as they approved the savoury soup — a hungry eager look of starvation, which gave a strange sort of feeling even to Sir Hugh MJiiners. ' How many of you are there here ?' he said, coming forward with a smile of recognition to Mrs Manners. 'About twenty odd, isn't there? Well, will a couple of shillings to each do you any good to-night f Just to buy snuff with for your-elves— not for the good man, mind, Alsie.' This was addressed to an old whitehahed fi»herwoman, who had gone for more than thirty years to the Hall. Gone wheu Lady Manners was a bride ; when the children had plagued her, and ridden in her creel, yet had not come to the end of her long pilgrimage still.' She turned round as Sir Hugh spoke ; turned the handsome, withered old face, which he remembered so well all through these years.' ' May the Lord bless you, ninny,' she said, ' for we are sorely pressed. ' • Mrs Manners does something for you, I see ?' said Sir Hugh, with a certain discomfort in his voice. 'She's fed us wheu we were hungry' said the old woman, solemnly ; ' she has clothed us when wo were uaked. The Lord reward her according to her deeds.' • Don't say that, Alsie— l've done but little,' said Mrs Manners, blushing scarlet. ' I'll say no more,' answered Alsie, with the reserve of her class, ( bat others know as well as me. ' • Aye,' said the women around, ' ay, we do that.' 'The bairn in my arms had been cold but for the mistress,' said a gaunt-looking woman who was standing near him, opening a frayed old shawl on her bosom and displaying a wasted, white-faced, sleeping child. Sir Hugh turned away his head ; he did not like such sights. 1 The spring is coining,' he said, ' you will all be rich soon.' • And would have starved meanwhile,' answered the womau ; adding, beneath her breath, ' had the world been full of such as ye.' Sir Hugh did not hear her last words, but something in her face, and in the way which she wrapped the old shawl again round her baby, showed her displeasure, and he was just thinking of leaving the kitchen, when the beautiful fisher-girl, Peggy Richardson, entered at the open door. For an instant a shade, slight and almost invisible, yet there, crossed his face when he saw her, but the next moment he addressed her with careless good humour. ' Well, Peggy,' he said, ' and how are you this cold night? — And how's the old man at home ?' When he spoke, the poor girl, who had not until then observed him, crimsoned to her very hair ; crimsoned aud started, and murmured some inaudible answer. ' I'm in the way, I can see, here among all this business,' continued Sir Hugh. ' Good night, Mrs Manners,^ good night, Miss Williams, good night, Peggy. I'm off to smoke a cigar in the moonlight on the links.' And with a nod to the rest of the women he disappeared, and Peggy Richardson's dark-brown eyes followed him as he went. •Well, Peggy,' said Mrs Manners, with peculiar kindness in her manner, 'and so you've come for your soup ?' 'Yes, mistress,' said the girl, with a deep long sigh, turning to answer her. ' And your father, poor man, how's he thi3 hard weather ?' 'But badly, he's sorely pained at times.' 'Ay,' said the woman with the baby, with some bitterness, ' ay, mistress, I tell her if bhc bided more with her poor rheumatic old father, and went less to meet yon tine gentleman who's just gone, it wad be more to her credit. ' 1 Let me aloue, will you, and mind your own business,' retorted the girl, aulleuly and indignantly. ■If the mistresii finds no fault with me, why should you?' ' I find no fault Peggy,' said Mrs Manners, gravely. • It's not you, poor lass, I blame — but you've no mother, Peggy, and should take care.' • Don't mistress don't !' cried poor Peggy, bursting into a fit of passionate sobbing, and coveting her face with her bauds, don't epeak kindly to me, please. ' The Lord forgive him, that's all I oan say,' said Mrs Manners under her breath. 1 Run Miss Williams, dear, and bring her a glass of wine — the poor lass ia sore upset.' • That conies of your fine gentlemen, said the women who had spoke before. ' Hold you tongue, Becky, and don't meddle with what doesn't concern you,' said Mrs Manners sharply. "And, Peggy, don't take on so ; I didn't mean to hurt you.' ' No, mistress,' sobbed the poor girl, struggling to recover herself. ' No, I know you didn't — but others do though it's no matter.' "**' You hud better leare her,' said Mrs Manners to the rest of the women. « No, no I'll be better— am better now' ' Stay a little while,' urged Mrs Manners, kindly, • it will do you good.' ' No,' said the girl, as if anxious to be away ; ' no, father will be looking for his supper.' ' Take this with you for him then, Peggy,' said Mrs Manners, pushing a bottle of whisky into her hand. ' I expected yon coming, and had it standing ready for you.' ' I— l can't thank you,' cried the girl, and drew her thin shawl round her lovely form. ' God bless you, mistress,' she added, pausing a moment and looking back with her tear-stained face. ' God bless you — if I can't," 1 Poor Peggy !' said Mrs Manners, with a sigh, as she closed the door. Miss Williams made no answer, and they were just preparing to leave the kitchen, when a little rap came again from the outside. ' Come in,' cried the mistress. It was the old fishwoman Alsie who entered. ' I have come to aek the youn? lady here a bit favour,' she said, looking at Miss Williams. 4 Well, Alsie, whit is'it ? she answered, with a pleasant smile. 'My gran'daughter's dying, ye ken, miss', laid the old woman, quite quietly, for death and disease are met among these people with the sternest resignation; ' and she wants sorely to see you once more before she goes.' 'Is she so ill ?' said Miss Williams, oommiseratinely. 'It is the young girl I met on the links a month or two ago, is

it not ? She utiid she was ailing then, but I did nob think her so very ill.' 1 Ah, she's gone fast since then. IVs the consumption; ye ken, miss, and this hard weather is just death to them, She won't la«t m»ny days now I'm thinking.' 1 What that pretty girl who used to come round with you, Alaie ? said Mrs Manners, much concerned. ' Why hare you not been for something for her before ?' ' Why, mistress, ye've so many to help I wan just shamed— that's the truth. But the poor lass took a bit foncy like to the young lady here, and has bean talking about her ever sinoe, and begged and prayed hard to-night, ai sick folks will, for me to aile her to come and see her — so I just thought I wad take the liberty. 1 llt was none, indeed,' said Miss Williams, kindly. « I shall gladly go to hee her — I will go with you to-night, Alsie, as if I were alone, I might not be able to find your hoa«e.' ' But iti not fit for the like o'y« to be out this time o'night,' said the old woman. •Oh yes, with you I'll be quite safe : so, Alsie, if you v> ill wait I will put on my cloak.' ♦ I'm thinking thp youn<r master's after her,' said Alsie, as Mi^s Williams loft the kitchen. ' She's comely looking, and sweet-spoken enough ; but she wad ha' to be as good as gold to suit the like o' him.' 'George is a favourite with you then, Alsie ?' eaid Mrs Manners with a pleasing smile. ' Ay,' she answered, ' be was the flower o' them when they were bairns— the bravest and comeliest — and bo's grown up the satne. No lass need hang her head for shame for Master George.' ♦ Ho is a good son to me.' 'Well, Alsie, I'm ready,' said Miss Williams, again entering the kitchen, with a scarlet cloak and hood orer her head. • Wait, my dear, till I've put up a little jelly and tea for the poor lassie,' said the kindly mistress 'And— and, Alsie, would this warm shawl be any use to you, or to her, poor thing ?' said Miss Williams, holding up a very handsome Paisley one. 'It's too good,' answered Alsie, with covetous eyes. Then her humble pious nature getting the batter of her momentary cupidity, she added in a differeut tone, ' thank you, miss, but its too good for the like o' me, and the poor lass will never live to wear it. 1 'It will do to wrap round her in the house, at any rate, 1 said Miss Williams gently. ' Carry it for me, AMe, and I will carry the jelly Mrs Manners has gone for.' It was a bright moonlight night when they went out ; a cold, clear, shining* night, and Miss Williams, delicate and fragile, coughed as she first met the frosty air. * Yo shouldn't come out in the cold, miss,' said old Alsie. 'I like it,' answered Miss Williams, looking yearningly upwards at the cloudless sky—' I like it, Alsie ?' ' Ye're south-country by your tongue, I take it,' said Alsie. How did you find that out, Abie ?' ' L-*dy Manners at the Hall was, I used often -tunes to see her and the childer — a sight •' years ago. ' Theirs was a sad story.' • Ay— one by one— but we must all gan!' 'The poor young heir was young to die.' ' That's Walter— ay, his was a sudden call.' 'Every one seems to hate loved him better than Sir Hugh ?' 'Mr George ia the best o1o 1 them all,' said Alsie; 'but hinny, don't let us tramp by the road. Let's gan by the links, and we'll save a vast o' time.' Under Alsie's guidance, therefore, who had known every inch of the ground for seventy years, they began ascending a narrow pathway which led straight i) cross the links to the village ; and presently as they did so, ou the sands below, two figures standing together became <li>tinotly visible in the moonlight. ' Ye ken wha they are ?' said old Alsie poiuting them out. Miss Williams looked, and in the cold white light recognised the beautiful face of Peggy Richardson and that of Sir Hugh Manners. Ho was holding both her hands, and her face, impassioned and tender, was turned towards him ; but even as they stood a moment watching them, she crept closer, and laid her head fondly upon his breast. ' Ay,' eaid old Alsie, shortly, ' we'd best gan on. Ye wadua, catch Master George at the like o' that— and Peggy Richardson too, who used to hold head so hi^h I* i There may be no harm.' ] 1 No, there mayn't ; but when a gentleman like Sir Hugh comes out o' nights to meet a poor lass like Peggy, it's hard to say.'